Dae smiled. It was a genuine, happy smile that made Theon press his back harder against the stone wall.
Theon hugged his knees tighter, rocking slightly. "Lord of Pyke..." he muttered to himself, his voice a frantic whisper. "My father... can you really do that? Magic their minds? Make me the Lord?"
Dae smiled. It was a perfectly crafted lie. He cared nothing for Theon's imaginary crown; he only needed a puppet to secure the Iron Fleet.
"I promise you," Dae said smoothly. "I will break their minds. They will kneel in the mud and beg to serve you. "
Theon swallowed hard. Blinded by desperate hope, he slowly nodded.
"But first," Dae said cheerfully, picking up a small iron key. "We have a few more days of hunting to do before we reach the coast. Rest up, Ramsay. Tomorrow is going to be a very long day."
...
Tywin Lannister sat in his solar high up in Casterly Rock. The room was perfectly quiet. The thick stone walls blocked out the noise of the ocean below.
A single piece of parchment rested on his heavy oak desk.
Tywin read the words for the third time. He didn't want to believe them, but his spy network in the capital had never failed him before. The report was blunt and impossible.
The Red Keep was gone. Cersei had ignited the hidden wildfire, blowing the entire castle into a crater of melted green glass. But that wasn't the impossible part.
The spy wrote that a giant, dead dragon had crawled out of the rubble. Then, the sky tore open. Thirty-foot monsters made of solid stone dropped from the clouds and fought for Alaric Thorne, pinning the beast down. Thorne stood right in the middle of the green fire and killed the dragon himself. He walked out of the explosion without a single burn on his skin.
Now, Thorne was the undisputed King. Cersei, Tommen, and Myrcella were in his dungeons.
Joffrey state is unknown as to he is dead or alive?
Tywin sat completely still, staring at the paper.
For his entire life, Tywin believed the world ran on simple, hard rules. Wars were won with gold, food, and patience. His grand strategy had been to retreat to the Westerlands and let Thorne's massive army starve outside the walls of King's Landing. It was a perfect, logical plan.
But logic didn't matter anymore.
How do you starve an army when their leader can call down stone titans from the sky? How do you bribe or negotiate with a man who sits inside an exploding mountain and doesn't even flinch?
Tywin slowly leaned back in his chair. The cold, hard mask he always wore finally slipped. His eyes looked tired. For the first time in his life, Tywin Lannister felt completely helpless. His gold and his armies meant absolutely nothing against this kind of power.
A sharp knock on the heavy wooden door broke the silence.
A Lannister captain stepped into the room. He bowed quickly, looking nervous. "My Lord. Forgive the interruption."
Tywin didn't look up from the parchment on his desk. "Speak."
"It is your son, My Lord. Tyrion," the captain said. "He took a dozen men from the garrison and rode out the main gate just a few moments ago."
Tywin frowned slightly. "Where is he going?"
"East, My Lord. He said he is riding for King's Landing."
The captain waited for an order. He kept his hand near his sword, ready to run down to the courtyard and send riders to drag the dwarf back.
Tywin stared at the report on his desk. He thought about Jaime in chains, Cersei in a dungeon, and a boy sitting on a throne of green glass.
"Let him go," Tywin said quietly.
The captain blinked, surprised. "My Lord?"
"I said let him go," Tywin repeated, his voice flat and empty. "Leave me."
...
The cell was freezing. It was located deep beneath the city walls, far away from the smoking ruins of Aegon's Hill.
Cersei Lannister sat on the hard, damp stone floor. Her beautiful crimson dress was ruined, torn at the seams and stained black with soot. Her wrists throbbed from where the ropes had cut into her skin earlier that day.
Across the small cell, Tommen lay curled up on a pile of dirty straw. He had cried until he threw up, and then he had cried some more. Now, he was finally asleep, his face pale and streaked with dirt.
Myrcella sat right next to him. She had her knees pulled tightly to her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs. She wasn't crying, but she was shaking. She just stared blankly at the heavy iron bars of the cell door.
Cersei leaned her head back against the cold stone wall. Her chest felt tight. She needed a plan. She always had a plan. If she just thought hard enough, she could find a way out of this. She could lie, or bribe a guard, or send a secret message.
But her mind was completely empty.
She had played her ultimate card. She had burned the Red Keep to the ground. It was supposed to kill her enemies or at least leave them with nothing to rule.
Instead, it did nothing.
Cersei closed her eyes, but she just saw Alaric Thorne sitting on top of that massive dragon skull. He had looked so calm.
She used to believe her father was the most dangerous man in the world. Tywin Lannister always won. But as she sat in the dark, the truth settled over her like a heavy blanket.
Her father was just a man. Tywin couldn't fight stone monsters. All the Lannister gold in the world couldn't buy an army strong enough to beat the things she had seen today.
Nobody was coming to save her.
Cersei opened her eyes and looked at Tommen. His small chest rose and fell in the quiet cell.
If she tried to fight, Thorne would kill them. If her father tried to march on the city, Thorne would crush him, and then he would kill them.
The arrogance that had driven Cersei her entire life finally broke. She pulled her knees up and buried her dirty face in her hands. There was no escape. If she wanted her children to live, she couldn't rely on power, or threats, or her family name.
She was completely, utterly at his mercy.
///
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